


Hair Issues

by FreckleLemonade



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes is a Giant Kitty, Bucky Barnes's Hair, Cuddling & Snuggling, Cute, F/M, Fluff, Healing Powers, Reader Has Powers, Reader-Insert, Steve Rogers is a Good Friend, Tony Stark Is Not Helping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-06-09 18:28:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6918283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreckleLemonade/pseuds/FreckleLemonade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Both Bucky and his hair have more issues than Vogue...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hair Issues

It had been a few months since you joined the Avengers' team and to say it had been 'hectic' would be a massive understatement. Steve Rogers brought Bucky Barnes, the former Winter Soldier, to Stark Tower about a month ago. Nothing went smoothly at first and it took a lot of adjusting to the episodes that Bucky suffered from as his memories trickled back into his damaged mind.

You had always been a bit of a shy person and Bucky's rampages left you feeling on edge. You weren't worried about defending yourself; you could do that just fine, thanks to the training you received from Natasha. However, your main power was to heal others and this involved instinctively knowing when someone was in pain, physically or emotionally. 

You had gotten pretty good at ignoring the tiny stinging sensations you got when someone stubbed their toe or got a paper cut, but all of Bucky's emotional turmoil left you feeling drained. Other than relieving the headaches that came along with his returning memories and keeping his mind calm after his nightmares, there wasn't much you could do to fix him. That would just take time.

You often took care of the team members during fights or patched them up when they came back from missions, all bruised, broken, and bloody. The Avengers had quickly become like a close-knit family to you and you loved them all. The fact that Captain America's best friend was in so much pain nearly killed you. You liked Bucky, despite everything he had done while under HYDRA's control, and you wanted him to get better almost as much as Steve did.

One morning, you stood in the training room and watched the sparring sessions carefully, in case someone got carried away and your healing powers were needed. Natasha practiced hand-to-hand combat with Clint, Thor challenged Steve to a one-handed push-up match which Tony immediately started placing bets on, and Bucky worked out his frustrations on a punching bag in the corner, as far away from the others as he could possibly get.

You sensed that something was troubling him and decided to wander over and make sure that he was okay. Or at least as okay as could be expected.

"Hey Bucky," you said gently, not wanting to frighten him.

The former Winter Soldier's attention snapped from the punching bag to you for a moment before he resumed his training without a word. He still wasn't used to being talked to like a human being instead of being ordered around like an animal so his conversational skills were lacking. The only person he really opened up to right now was Steve. You didn't mind, though, and sat down on a bench near him. 

You watched as his fists thudded mercilessly on the sand-filled punching bag. Long, dark strands of hair swung around his face and his intense eyes were trained on his target. You swore that you could hear the rush of his pulse as the muscles in his arms and torso rhythmically tensed and released. Or maybe that was just your own pulse.

Suddenly, he stopped. His chest rose and fell as he breathed heavily. You watched him carefully and wondered for a second if he was going to fly off the handle, into one of his Winter Soldier episodes. Instead, he simply shook his head and huffed to try and blow his long, unruly hair out of his face. When that didn't work, he ran his hand through it to push it away but it just fell stubbornly back into his eyes. You smiled and tried your best to swallow the giggles that rose in your throat. He noticed and his face fell a little, thinking that you were making fun of him.

He liked you. You seemed to be the only one, besides Steve, to know what he was going through. He didn't fully understand how you knew, as he didn't fully understand how your powers worked, but he didn't question it. All he knew was that it didn't hurt and that he received a little bit of peace from his inner demons when the faint pink light emanated from your hands. Steve trusted you, and he trusted Steve, so by that logic you were to be trusted as well. Besides, he figured that whatever your powers were, they couldn't be any stranger than Dr. Banner turning in a giant, green monster or Thor being able to control thunder.

"Bucky?"

His thoughts were interrupted when you softly called his name. He stood motionless as you approached him. He sensed that you were nervous and he didn't want to scare you by moving too abruptly.

"Bucky?" you called again, "Is your hair bothering you?"

He thought for a moment. Bothering... him? It had been a long time since he had thought about his own comfort. Comfort wasn't necessary to the Winter Soldier, only his ability to function properly. Bucky concluded that because his hair was hanging in his face and getting in his mouth, he couldn't focus on his training. Thus, his functionality was disrupted.

He nodded.

You smiled at him and held up a small, red band of some kind. He took it from your fingers, as gently as he possibly could. He held it in his metal palm and stared at it, waiting for it to do something. It just sat in his hand, unmoving. He looked up at you, confused. You giggled again and he realized that, even if it meant you were making fun of him, he liked that noise. It reminded him of warm sunshine and he could only describe it as... pleasant. Was that the word? He hadn't thought about that word in a long time.

"Do you want me to do it?" 

He nodded again, while his mind fluttered with panicked thoughts. Had he done something wrong? Had he broken it without realizing it?

You took the band from his palm and walked to stand behind him. He turned his head, cautiously watching your every movement. Was this going to hurt? 

You quickly realized that you were too short to do this properly and asked, "Could you come and sit on the bench, Bucky? It'll only take a minute."

Bucky nodded, sat down on the bench, and waited. You stepped behind him again and he felt you lightly run your fingers through his hair. As you gathered up the dark locks, you were careful not to pull too hard or yank on any tangles you came across. As you worked, Bucky's shoulders relaxed a bit as a small sigh escaped him. When all the longer strands had been gathered up, you took the band and looped it around the small ponytail you had created.

Some shorter locks still hung by his temples and framed his face. You took out a couple of black bobby pins from your pocket, showed them to him, and explained that you were going to use them to hold back the pieces that didn't reach into the band. He nodded with half-lidded eyes and you deftly slid them into his hair.

You patted him gently on the shoulder, "There you go, Buck. All done."

He reached around to the back of his head with his right hand and touched the ponytail. He shook his head lightly and seemed pleased when no hair fell into his eyes. He stood up from the bench and turned to you with the tiniest of smirks on his face. It was the first happy expression you had seen on his face since he came to the tower and your heart squeezed in your chest.

"Thank you," he murmured.

"You're very welcome." 

He turned away with a nod and returned to his punching bag to get a few more minutes in before the training period was over. Steve had stopped his push-up routine to take a break and saw the entire exchange between you and his best friend. You looked over to survey the rest of the sparring matches and blushed when you caught the blonde super soldier's gaze. He beamed at you, clearly impressed by your efforts to make Bucky feel more comfortable.

 

\-----

 

A few days later, you were getting ready for the daily training session when you heard a faint knock at your bedroom door. You quickly finished pulling up your shorts, flung a loose t-shirt over your head, and breathlessly called for whoever it was to come in. After a brief moment, the handle turned and the door was pushed open a bit. You were met with the face of Bucky, nervously peeking in through the gap in the door. 

You smiled warmly and beckoned him in. He warily stepped into the room and gazed around, thoroughly taking in his surroundings. When he finished, he turned his gaze to you. He was dressed in a tight red t-shirt and baggy grey sweatpants and, once again, his dark hair fell loosely around his face. He hesitated for a moment before holding out his metal palm in front of him. In it, he held the red band and the few bobby pins that you had used to arrange his hair the other day.

You looked from his hand to his face. His intense eyes scanned yours and apprehensively searched them for any signs of the malice he was used to seeing in his former superiors' eyes. When he only sensed a little confusion, he extended his hand further towards you while his other hand absently fiddled with a few strands of his hair.

"Oh, you want me to tie it up for you again?" You said, as you finally realized what he was trying to hint at.

Bucky nodded and stepped forward. You smiled and took the items from his hand. He settled himself on the edge of your bed as you picked up the brush that sat on your night table. You showed it to him.

"This'll help get all the tangles out," you told him cheerfully, "It might pull a bit but I'll do my best to be gentle." 

He reached out and gingerly touched the plastic bristles, making sure that the object was safe. When he was satisfied, you crawled up to kneel behind him on the bed and began to run the brush through his hair. Bucky's body relaxed as it had done last time and you swore that you could hear him hum contentedly. When you were finished brushing, you quickly fastened the band and pins, then hopped off the bed and stood in front of him with your hands on your hips to admire your handiwork. You grinned a little as you realized that Bucky had a very handsome face, when it wasn't being obscured by the lengths of dark hair. 

"Man, Bucky, the ladies aren't going to be able to keep their hands off of you now that they can see that pretty face of yours," you joked.

That tiny smirk graced his lips once again. Steve had told him when he first arrived at the tower that he was allowed to feel things and to want things. He had said that the days of him having to stand by and wait for orders and permission were over. He was free to think and act how he wanted, as long as he didn't hurt himself or any innocent people around him. 

He never completely believed that was true until a couple days ago. After you had fixed his hair that day, he sat on his bed and tried to process everything that had happened. When Steve walked in and asked him what he was thinking about, Bucky blurted out that he was thinking about you. He had been scared for a moment because HYDRA would have never allowed him to voice such personal thoughts. He would have been strapped to the mind-wiping machine faster than anyone could say "Hail HYDRA!" But Steve had only nodded, sat down beside him, and waited patiently for him to continue. When he realized that he wasn't going to be in trouble, Bucky went on and admitted that most of his thoughts were about you.

When Steve asked him to elaborate, Bucky told him that he often thought about how you helped him figure out how to use things like the microwave and the TV remote and about the way you hummed him lullabies to calm his haunted mind when he couldn't sleep. He talked about how you had healed up his bruised knuckles after that time he punched a hole in his bedroom wall during one of his episodes. 

He liked the way your lips turned up into a tiny smile when you passed him in the hallways. He liked the chocolate chip cookies that you made and how you never got angry with him when he asked to try one... and then asked for seconds. You always brought him a cup of warm tea after his Winter Soldier rampages subsided and rubbed his back in a way that soothed his frightened soul.

Bucky knew you were scared of him sometimes; he could see it in your eyes and in the way you cautiously moved around him. However, you never let that get in the way of helping him when he needed it the most. He just didn't know if you felt the same way about him. Steve said that he would never know unless he asked. 

Bucky bit his lip, "What do I ask?"

"I don't know," Steve admitted with a rueful smile, "I'm not the best person to ask about this kind of thing. You were always the one who was good with the girls."

Bucky snorted, unsure if he believed that.

"But if you're going to do something," Steve continued, "You should probably do it soon. Waiting too long is one thing I know way too much about."

With his best friend's words now playing in his mind, he decided that it was now or never and reached out to take your hand. He gently pulled you towards him and enveloped you in an uncharacteristically tender hug. After a few moments of stunned silence on your part, you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders while he buried his face in your collarbone. The two of you stayed like that for a few minutes, barely breathing. You were about to pull away when you heard him mumble something into your shoulder.

"What?"

He pulled away, just enough so that you could hear him and repeated, "Can we do this again tomorrow?"

You smiled, "The ponytail or the hug?"

He looked up at you, his eyes serious but hopeful.

"Both."


	2. Losing Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky loses control of himself and slips back into his dangerous Winter Soldier persona... Will you be able to forgive him this time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was based on a prompt from Smutwritingangel so thank you to them for the idea and the permission to use it! <3
> 
> Prompt: "I would love more even if it's just like a really short thing where Bucky has an episode and he just asks the reader for a hug and the whole team (except steeee of course) is just like what?!"
> 
> Hope you like it! <3

Bucky felt like his head was going to explode. All he could hear was his heart pounding as he looked in the mirror that hung above his dresser and saw a man staring back at him that he didn't quite recognize. He had long, dark hair that partially hung in his face. The man's jaw was covered in stubble and intense eyes stared back into his. Bucky looked into the glass and realized that the man's arm was made of metal. The Winter Soldier had a metal arm. He stared down at his own arm and realized that it was metal too. 

The silence felt deafening as images of blood and snow flashed through his mind, along with memories of the grimey basement vault where he had his mind wiped multiple times over the decades. He saw the machine and felt the taste of bile and rubber in his mouth. He tried to scream but only a strangled cry left his throat. He threw his metal fist into the mirror. The man's image shattered but didn't disappear and now he knew why. He was the Winter Soldier.

 

\-----

 

It was a lazy Saturday afternoon in Stark Tower. You were sitting on the couch in the main living room, half-watching the show that was playing on the widescreen TV. Steve and Natasha were playing poker at the kitchen table, Tony was out on a quick reconnaissance mission for Fury, and everyone else was off doing their own things. 

As you sat there, you started to feel like something wasn't right. Emotion suddenly bubbled up inside of you like boiling water and your throat felt tight. You looked around the room. Everything seemed normal, but the prickly feeling in the back of your brain wasn't letting up and you were having trouble ignoring it. It was getting worse by the second and you began to worry. Just as you resolved to get up and find the source, you heard a loud crash and one of the bedroom doors went splintering off its hinges.

Steve and Natasha immediately jumped up from their chairs and went into fighting stances. You began to focus your energy because you knew exactly which room the sound had come from and exactly what was going to follow. In the next moment, Bucky came charging down the hallway, his eyes wild and focused on Steve. He had been Bucky's last mission as the Winter Soldier and now, every time he had a relapse, that was the only thing he could remember. He rushed straight at Steve and pounced on him, metal arm poised for a left hook. Steve managed to block his punch and flip Bucky off of him.

"Bucky, stop!" Steve shouted.

"Shut up! I'm not Bucky!" He screamed back.

He attacked Steve and Natasha with tiger-like ferocity and you tried your best to focus on calming Bucky's rapidly crumbling mind. He managed to slam Natasha against the wall hard enough to knock her out. Bucky pulled his combat knife from his belt and engaged Steve, who did his best to dodge away from it but ended up with a nasty cut across his cheek. Steve succeeded in wrestling the knife away from him but at that moment, Bucky delivered a brutal blow to Steve's rib cage. You winced. The sudden, sharp pain in your skull paired with a cry of agony from the blond super soldier told you that a couple of his ribs had just snapped. 

You knew that if you didn't stop Bucky's rampage soon, a lot more damage was going to be done. The familiar pink glow surged from your palms as you tried to reach through Bucky's mind to try and fix whatever was causing this particular episode. Your power wasn't as good with emotional trauma as it was with physical injuries, but even a little bit was better than nothing. 

He paused for a moment and you hoped that meant that it was finally working. But instead of stopping, Bucky pivoted suddenly and leaped at you. You tried to jerk out of the way but he was too fast and his metal fingers clasped tightly around your throat and lifted you up off the ground slightly. You kicked your legs and tried to pry his hand off but you were no match for his enhanced strength. Natasha was still laying unconscious on the floor and Steve was doing his best to get up and come to your aid but his broken ribs were making it difficult to breathe, let alone move. 

"Bucky," you pleaded hoarsely, "You need to stop this. You aren't the Winter Soldier anymore. Please, Bucky..."

You didn't feel much pain, which was a natural side-effect of the healing powers that you possessed, but you were struggling to breathe. While you continued to try to reassure him, Bucky stared you straight in the eye and for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker in his intense stare. Your vision was starting to go dark and the glow from your hands was getting weaker and weaker.

Suddenly, his grip loosened and you dropped to the ground in a gasping, coughing heap. Natasha had woken up and quickly threw a Taser Disk at his arm, causing it to short-circuit. Steve mustered up his strength and took this opportunity to knock Bucky out. When he was finally unconscious, the three of you sat on the floor around him, trying to catch your breath and assessing your battle wounds. 

Steve had gotten the worst of it and so, when you were able to breathe again, you placed your hands on his broken ribs. He cringed a little, despite you trying to be as gentle as you could. The warm pink glow emanated from your hands and, within a few minutes, his ribs were back in their proper places. While you were at it, you also healed up the cut on his cheek. When you were finished, he thanked you, picked up Bucky's now limp body, and took him to his room. 

Then, you used your power to take the edge off of Natasha's mild concussion and fixed her split lip. Thankfully, she hadn't gotten any other major injuries. Your throat was beginning to turn purple but, after struggling with Bucky and healing up your friends, your energy was completely drained. The bruises would just have to wait a few hours. They didn't hurt, though, and ultimately, you were just grateful to be alive. 

One injury that you couldn't heal was your heartbreak when you recalled the flicker of emotion in Bucky's eye before he had been incapacitated. At that moment, you knew that he knew what he had done. He was going to be completely distraught about this when he woke up. He always was.

You shook your head gently.

"I'm going to go make some tea for when Bucky wakes up." Your voice was still a little crackly and rough.

"You know you don't have to." Natasha said, eyeing your bruised throat, "If anything, he should be making you tea."

You nodded, "I know, but I want to."

Natasha knew that there was no arguing with you. She knew you had a good head on your shoulders. You never held grudges against anyone, unless they deserved it, and you knew that Bucky didn't deserve it because what went on in his mind wasn't his fault. You had been scared, sure, but you knew that if anyone was to blame for the bruises on your neck, it was HYDRA for what they had done to Bucky. If anything, you just felt even worse for him.

"I know it was necessary, but I wish that he didn't have to be knocked out like that. Especially when I don't have enough power left to heal up the goose egg that comes with it."

"Cognitive recalibration. A little brutal but it works." Nat said, simply.

You just chuckled, remembering her telling you the story of when Clint was under Loki's mind control. Recalibration, indeed.

"Want some?" You asked, holding up an empty mug.

"No, thanks." She answered, then sighed, "As long as you're okay, I guess that's all that matters. I'm going to go shower." 

You waved her off with a small smile, reassuring her that you were fine. She got up, stretched out her achy muscles, and padded off to her room. You turned back to the tea you were making and poured the hot water into the three waiting mugs. You and Bucky both liked your tea with a little bit of sugar and Steve always just took his plain. 

You figured that Bucky would probably be waking up soon. It never took him very long to wake up after these relapses and you wanted to be there for him when he did. You finished up and stirred the tea, the spoon rhythmically tapping on the sides of the ceramic mugs. You put the mugs on a tray and headed onward to Bucky's room.

When you reached his bedroom, you tapped on the door frame. The jagged pieces of his door leaned against the opposite wall. You guessed that Tony wouldn't be too happy about having to replace yet another door. Steve was sitting on the edge of Bucky's bed, watching his unconscious friend closely. He heard you at the door and waved you in without turning around. You stepped into the room quietly and set the tray down on his night table beside the bed, careful not to spill anything.

"How is he?" You whispered, handing Steve his mug of tea and stood beside the bed, looking down at Bucky.

He accepted it with a tired half-smile, "Thanks. I think he'll be okay."

Bucky was out cold, laying under his blankets. If you didn't know better, you could swear that he had just drifted peacefully off to sleep. The small, light bruise on his temple from the "cognitive recalibration" told a different story, however.

Steve eyed the bruises on your neck with his eyebrows knitted together with worry. He reached out and gently lifted your chin so that he could see the marred skin better. His fingers traced your jawline like you were made of glass and could break at the slightest touch. A look of guilt washed over his face.

You smiled, softly touching your throat, "I'm fine, Steve, don't worry. These are nothing, really."

"Even so, I feel like I should have done more to protect you. Bucky's my best friend so I guess I pull my punches a little with him." He paused, "But you're an important part of this team too and I should have done more."

You rested your hand on his arm, "I promise, I'm fine. I'm just glad that you, Nat, and Bucky are okay. To me, that's all that matters."

"You amaze me. Did you know that?" 

Steve looked up at you from the bed with shining eyes. You looked back at him, your confusion apparent on your face. He went on.

"You've seen Bucky blow up so many times. Yet, you still make tea and check in on him every single time. Most people would be running the other way. Heck, most people on this team wanted him gone the first couple times it happened."

You smiled again, "I guess I'm not most people, then. I know that it's not Bucky's fault. He can't control when his mind decides to switch back into Winter Soldier mode. I care about him a lot and I want to help him where I can. I guess what I mean to say is that I lov--"

You were cut off by Bucky shifting in his bed. His eyes shot open and he glanced around the room with a terrified look on his face. His gaze fell on you and Steve and his mask of panic softened a bit. He sat up slowly.

"It's okay, Buck. You're safe." Steve said.

"What did I do this time?" Bucky whispered, rubbing his pounding head. He wasn't sure if he even wanted to know the answer.

Steve shifted his weight on the bed, "Don't worry about it."

"No, tell me. Please, I need to kn--"

Bucky trailed off as he caught sight of the dark purple discoloration on your throat.

"Oh my God," was all he could say. 

The look on his face broke your heart all over again. Tears welled in his eyes and he shut them tightly, trying to block out the sight of what he had done to you but the image had burned into his brain. You got up from your spot beside Steve and knelt on the floor in front of Bucky. You reached out and rested your hand on his cheek. His watery eyes opened and met yours. You smiled gently at him.

"Bucky, you know it's not your fault, right?"

"I still did it, though! I still hurt you."

He put his head in his hands and you could see his body quivering a little as he sobbed soundlessly. Steve shuffled down a bit so that you could sit between him and Bucky. You sat down and put your hands on Bucky's shoulders.

"Bucky, look at me." You said. 

Your voice was soft but firm. He dropped his hands and lifted his head just enough so that he could peer at you. You were staring into his eyes but he couldn't find any anger in them. Only empathy and kindness. He didn't deserve either of those things. He deserved to be locked up in cryo-freeze again, so that he couldn't hurt you or anyone else. Your quiet voice shook him from his thoughts.

"You have gone through so much and none of it was your fault. The only people to blame are the people of HYDRA. You're a victim, Buck, not a villain."

He looked up at you, with new tears developing in his eyes. You were smiling at him. You reached out and caressed his cheek tenderly. He nuzzled his face into your touch and took a deep breath, trying to exhale all the guilt and sadness from his lungs.

"You're not mad at me?" He whispered, watching your face for any hint of anger that might appear.

"Oh Bucky, of course not."

He knew when people were lying but as he studied your face, he could sense that you were telling the truth. He leaned forward and rested his forehead on your shoulder, laying all his worries upon it and breathing in the scent of your skin. How were you not mad at him, after what he had done to you? How had he ended up with such a beautiful, forgiving person like you? You leaned your head against his and began running your fingers through his hair. He sighed, contentedly; he loved it when you did that.

Steve watched the two of you and smiled. Judging from Bucky's relaxed body language, he was pretty sure that his friend was finally stable enough to leave him alone with you. He picked up his now empty mug and quietly exited the room. You knew Steve had left by the way the bed shifted. You had nearly forgotten that he was in the room and your cheeks flushed as you realized that you had been petting Bucky in front of him. You straightened up a little and Bucky reluctantly lifted his head from your shoulder.

"I brought you tea, by the way." You told him, picking up the two warm mugs from the tray, "It's cooled a little now, but it'll still be good."

Bucky took the mug from you and took a deep sniff of the aroma. He looked at it suspiciously. He knew that you wouldn't give him anything bad, but he wasn't sure about what it would taste like.

"It's peppermint." You spoke up, sensing his hesitation, "It's calming and it'll help you sleep."

Bucky didn't reply. He sipped the warm drink and let the coolness of the peppermint wash over him. He felt his body relax. The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes while you drank your tea. When he was finally finished, he drew a deep breath and put the mug back on the tray beside him. He settled back into his pillow, feeling sleepy now.

"Thank you." He said, stifling a yawn.

"You're welcome." You grinned, "See? I told you it would help you relax."

You patted his hand gently and got up to take the mugs out to the kitchen and let him sleep. As you were leaving, though, you felt a slight tug on your shirt. You looked back to see Bucky holding your hem with his metal hand, staring down at his lap. He took a deep breath and glanced up at you.

"Would you stay with me?" He mumbled, clearly embarrassed. "I just... I don't want to be alone right now."

You stared at him for a moment. This man, who had been the fearsome Winter Soldier for several decades, now appeared so shy and vulnerable in front of you. You felt your heart swell in your chest. If there were any doubts in your mind about your feelings for Bucky, they were melting away now. You set the tray back down on the night table.

"Scoot over, then." You told him with a smile.

He perked up a little and hastily shuffled over to the far side of his bed. He had been worried that he had crossed some boundary when he asked you to stay. The two of you had shared some hugs before when he was having a bad day, but was it too brazen of him to ask you to stay in his room? Especially alone? He had no ulterior motives, really. He just needed to be with you right now. You made him feel safe and... happy.

You slid in beside him, pulling the covers up. Bucky laid still, his body rigid. He didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable. He was afraid you would leave if he touched you. He heard you giggle softly and looked over at you out of the corner of his eye. You were laying on your side, facing him, with your head propped up on your left arm.

"You know you don't have to stay all the way over there, Buck."

He timidly inched over to you, stopping just beside you, his clothes barely brushing against you. You knew that besides the few hugs you had given him, he wasn't used to affection and touching. When you realized that he was nervous, you decided you would make a move and see how he reacted. You wiggled over to him and tossed your arm over his torso. You felt his body stiffen in surprise, but then relax. After a few seconds of hesitation, he rolled over onto his right side so that he was facing you. He gingerly put his metal arm around you and pulled you a little closer, tucking your head under his chin. The arm was a little cold at first but gradually warmed to your body temperature as it laid across you.

It was kind of funny; an hour ago, you were trying to get this arm off of your throat and now you were cuddled comfortably underneath it. You snuggled in closer to him and rested your forehead on his chest as his grip on you tightened protectively. You tangled your legs loosely with his and his bare feet gradually warmed up your cold ones. You breathed in his natural scent and smiled, letting sleep slowly fold you into its embrace. 

Bucky could feel all the anxiety from the day melting away with each steady breath you drew. He dipped his head and gently kissed you on the top of the head. He had never done that before and his cheeks burned a little from the action but it felt... right. He smiled. Some day soon, he would work up the courage to do that when you could be aware of it. For now, though, sleep was tugging at his eyelids. After nestling into your body a little more, Bucky drifted off into the most peaceful, dreamless slumber that he'd had in a long time.

 

\-----

 

A couple hours later, Tony stepped out of the elevator, finally back home from the recon mission. He was exhausted. He walked into the kitchen to check in with everyone and let them know that he was back and alive before he went up to his floor and took the longest, hottest shower he could manage. He saw Steve and Natasha, sitting at the table, playing poker.

"You guys haven't moved since I left this morning, have you?"

Steve just chuckled as Natasha glared daggers at Tony.

Tony's brow furrowed, "Jeez, what's with you?"

He walked off down the hallway, back towards the elevator.

"What the hell? What did the Wiener Soldier to his door this time?"

Nat and Steve looked at each other, quickly put down their cards, and got up to join Tony in the hallway and explain what had happened. He was storming off down the hall towards the shattered door, muttering to himself about having to fix "every damn thing in the building."

"Tony, it wasn't Bucky's fault. I mean, he did it, but he wasn't in control..."

"I swear," He went on, ignoring Steve, "One day he's just going to explode or something and there won't be a tower for me to come back to!"

When he made it to Bucky's doorway, he opened his mouth to start yelling but quickly snapped it shut as he took in the scene before him.

"What the hell..." He said again.

Steve and Natasha jogged quietly up behind him and peeked into Bucky's room. The super soldier and the assassin looked at each other and shrugged. Steve was a little shocked to see you snuggled into his best friend's bed at first, but he knew how Bucky felt about you. He knew that you were the only one, beside him, to be able to calm Bucky down after a Winter Soldier episode like that. You hung out with Natasha a lot and she had seen the way you looked at Bucky. You had never explicitly spoken about your feelings for him, but Nat wasn't stupid; she knew a crush when she saw one.

Tony gaped at them, "You mean, you guys knew about this and you didn't tell me? How long has this been going on under my nose?" 

Natasha shushed him and pulled him away from the doorway a bit, not wanting his outburst to wake you two up.

"Nothing's really been happening, Tony."

"Oh, sure, because that," He pointed back at the room, "Really looks like nothing. How foolish of me to think something was going on between them when they're tangled up in his bed like a pair of earphones!"

You had woken up and heard all the hissing and arguing that was going on outside the door. You shifted in the bed and slipped out from underneath Bucky's arm, managing not to wake him. You padded softly to the doorway and saw Tony, Nat, and Steve standing around, shouting in whispers at each other.

You rubbed your eyes sleepily and said, "Can you guys do that somewhere else? Bucky's finally sleeping soundly and you're gonna wake him up."

Tony stopped his ranting as his eyes immediately locked onto the bruises that were still evident on your neck. 

"Are those hickies?" He stared at you incredulously.

You touched your throat, thoroughly confused as to what he was talking about until you remembered the events that had happened earlier with Bucky.

You were too tired to explain everything at that moment so you just smiled at him and winked, "Sure, Tony, whatever you say. Just try to keep it down, okay?"

He gawked at you as Steve pulled him back down the hallway by the arm, with Natasha following behind, grinning the whole way. You yawned, turned around, and wandered back into Bucky's room. You would deal with Tony later, but for now, all you wanted to do was sleep. Bucky seemed to still be asleep. You crawled into the warm bed and snuggled back under his metal embrace. You wrapped your arm securely around him once more and dozed off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pfft, Tony's reactions are so much fun to write. xD
> 
> Feedback is appreciated; let me know what you think!  
> I hope everyone is having a wonderful day today. <3


	3. Reverie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky tries to work up enough courage to tell you how he truly feels but panics at the last second... Can chocolate chip cookies save the day?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, the third chapter is finally here! I'm sorry it took so long!  
> Enjoy! <3

In the next few weeks after his last relapse, Bucky made a lot of progress with his memories. He started functioning less like a machine and more like a human being. He showed more emotion, expressing his likes, dislikes, and feelings, rather than just accepting because he felt he had to. 

Your relationship with him had also changed a lot. He sat beside you for nearly every movie night, you brushed and tied up his hair up before his training sessions, and he often hovered around you, trying to help you with any chores you had. Anyone else might describe his actions as clingy or annoying, but you enjoyed spending time with him. It made you happy to see him fitting into life at Stark Tower. 

Natasha looked at you suggestively whenever Bucky was around but you just shrugged and laughed it off. It was true that every tiny smile he gave you made you feel weak in the knees, but you didn't want to add any pressure to him while he was recovering. Besides, you figured that he still felt bad after what had happened during his last incident and, even though the bruises had long since healed up, he felt some kind of obligation to protect you.

Steve had also begun to confide in you more and more since the talk you two had weeks earlier while waiting for Bucky to regain consciousness. After seeing how you handled him when he had attacked you and taking care of him after, Steve realized that you truly had Bucky's best interests at heart. And honestly, it was nice for Steve to be able to talk to someone who knew exactly how he was feeling. 

One day, you and Steve were sitting alone on the couch in the living room, watching an old black and white movie. The movie was nearly over when you felt the air around him shift.

You turned to look at him, "Is everything okay?"

He looked at you, a little surprised, and then chuckled.

"I don't think I'll ever get used to you doing that."

"Sorry, I'm not meaning to pry. I just noticed..." You stopped. Your face flushed and you looked down at your lap, a little embarrassed, "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

He shook his head and turned down the volume on the TV as the credits rolled.

"No, it's fine. It would actually be nice to get it off my chest, actually."

You folded your hands in your lap and patiently waited for Steve to continue.

He took a deep breath, "I guess it's just been hard to watch Bucky struggle so much. I'm worried that his mind will never go back to normal after what HYDRA did to him."

You nodded sympathetically.

"Sometimes I feel like I should be doing more to help him. I feel so useless. It's like I'm just standing by, letting him go through all of this."

"He's doing so much better, though, Steve. And he's not going through it alone anymore. Just being there for him is one of the most important things you can do and I know that he appreciates it so much." You gave him your best encouraging smile.

He smiled back for a moment, then it faded. He raked his hand through his short, blonde hair.

"How do I stop feeling so guilty?"

The question hung in the air between you two. You thought about it for a moment before gently resting your hand on his shoulder.

"I could take away the sadness and the guilt for now if you want. But it would only be a temporary fix. You know that, don't you?" 

"Yes," he answered solemnly, "I know."

"You have to learn to forgive yourself, Steve. You've got him back. I know you can't help but feel frustrated that he's not the same Bucky you knew as a kid but he's still Bucky."

He sat quietly beside you, carefully absorbing every word of your advice.

"You fought so hard to get him back. The fact that you got him back at all is nothing short of a miracle. Don't waste the time you have now by beating yourself up about what you could have or should have done," you sighed, "It's not worth it."

"You're right," he agreed, "But it's easier said than done."

"That's why it's important to remember that the only thing you can do is take it one step at a time," you said, "It'll be alright, Steve. Trust me."

He smiled a little and opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted as your phone chirped from your pocket. You suddenly remembered that you were supposed to meet Natasha in the training room today after your movie. You pulled out your phone and, sure enough, there was an impatient text of "where r u??" on the screen. 

"Sorry, Steve, but I have to go. Natasha's waiting for me and if I'm any later, she might actually kill me," you said, getting up from the couch. 

He grinned, knowing full well how intense Natasha could be.

"It's okay. Thanks for taking the time to listen to my whining."

You laughed.

"Anytime. I mean that."

You gave him one last reassuring pat on the shoulder before hurrying off to your training session.

 

\----- 

 

Natasha flipped you over her shoulder for the sixth time and your body hit the mat with a thud, knocking the wind out of you. You laid there with your eyes closed, your chest heaving up and down with each ragged breath you took until the shock wore off a bit. You groaned.

"You gonna be okay?"

You opened your eyes to see her kneeling and leaning over you. Her red hair dangled around her face, her nose just a few inches from yours as she smirked down at you.

"I'm actually seeing stars," you replied, a little dazed, "I thought that only happened in cartoons. Am I dying?"

She laughed and shook her head. 

"You're fine."

"I don't feel fine. I'm just not built for hardcore hand-to-hand combat, Nat," you said, between gasps, "I'm a healer, not a fighter."

She scoffed, pulling you up into a sitting position, "You just need more practice."

"I already know the basics," you argued.

"That's not good enough."

"Why not?" You knew you sounded whiny, but you didn't care.

"Because," she sighed, pushing her hair back from her face, "Last time you were in a fight, you nearly got your windpipe crushed."

"You're going all military on me because of what happened with Bucky a few weeks ago?"

She looked away for a second.

"You're my friend, okay? I need to make sure that you can defend yourself properly if I can't be there to help you," she paused, "I don't want to lose you."

"Getting knocked out wasn't your fault, you know."

"I know," she said quickly, "Don't worry, I'm not suffering from a guilty conscience like Steve."

You stared at her.

"What? I might not be as good as you at reading emotions, but I'm not stupid. I know what guilt looks like," she shrugged.

"He's just having a rough time with his feelings right now," you admitted, grabbing your water bottle from the floor beside the mat.

"Speaking of feelings," she said, changing the subject, "what are you going to do about your crush on Barnes?"

You choked on your water.

"I don't have a crush on him," you sputtered.

She laughed, "I told you, I'm not stupid. That reaction alone is enough proof that you do."

You blushed profusely and silently damned her perceptiveness.

"There's nothing to do about it," you said, finally, "He's recovering from his horrible experiences with HYDRA. He doesn't need anyone to be putting romantic pressure on him right now. Especially not me."

Natasha looked at you and shook her head slowly.

"For someone who can read emotions, you're pretty dense, aren't you?"

"Well, excuse me," you huffed, "You don't exactly get a lot of practice with positive emotions when the ones you deal with mostly pertain to pain and suffering. And even then, I'm still learning, you know."

"Then trust me. I'm almost one hundred percent sure that he would love to get some 'romantic pressure' from you," she said, smirking. 

"Don't make it weird!" you squeaked, lightly smacking her arm.

She laughed, "Anyway, enough chat. Let's get back to business."

You flopped backwards onto the mat, dramatically clutching your chest, "Ugh, please, no more. I feel like my heart is going to explode already."

Natasha shook her head at your antics, "Tomorrow, then."

 

\-----

 

When your training was finally over, you hit the showers and washed away all the sweat and grime from your skin. Afterwards, you blow-dried your hair and spritzed a little of your favourite vanilla-scented body spray onto your neck and chest. You got dressed in some comfy, casual clothes and headed out to the kitchen.

When you entered the large kitchen, you spotted Bucky sitting on one of the stools at the counter. He wasn't doing anything but staring into space with his face resting on one of his hands. You immediately blushed at the sight of him, remembering your conversation with Nat from earlier. You willed yourself to calm down and stepped cautiously, not wanting to startle him. He was wearing a black, tight-fitting t-shirt and distressed, dark-wash jeans that looked like they were made specifically for him. 

You felt your heart skip a beat and, for a moment, you forgot all about trying to be quiet. Since your eyes were focused on him, you accidentally stubbed your toe on the garbage bin. You squeaked in pain and Bucky spun around in his seat. His intense gaze softened a little as he realized it was just you.

"Are you okay?" He asked, looking a little worried.

Your cheeks turned bright red and all you could say was, "Uh-huh."

What was happening to you? This was probably all Natasha's fault for putting weird thoughts in your head. It wasn't like you to get all giddy when a guy showed you the slightest bit of attention. You decided that it needed to stop before you did or said something completely embarrassing.

"I was wondering where you were today," Bucky said, abruptly snapping you out of your thoughts.

You took a deep breath and attempted to pull yourself together. It was just Bucky. No need to get all flustered.

"Oh, I was just in the gym with Nat. That woman is a slave-driver when it comes to training." You laughed and put an index finger to your lips, adding, "Don't tell her I said that, though."

Bucky just nodded.

"So, uh, were you looking for me for a reason?"

Bucky stared at you for a few moments as he tried to remember his reason for waiting for you in the kitchen. Then, a look of recollection washed over his face.

"I was going to ask you... I wanted to know..." He paused and pressed his lips together, as he tried to gather his scattered thoughts. 

His mind was racing a mile a minute. This was a bad idea. Maybe he shouldn't ask, after all. No, Steve said that he was allowed to want things, right? So this should be okay. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. As Steve had told him a couple months earlier, it was now or never.

"Would you show me how to make cookies?" He blurted.

Damn it. That wasn't what he wanted to say at all. He wanted to ask you on a date but panicked at the last second and said the first thing that came to mind. He felt like bashing his head against the countertop in frustration. What would you say? Would you laugh at him? He liked the sound of your laugh but he didn't think his heart could handle the embarrassment. He cringed and waited for your response.

"I'd love to, Bucky."

He opened one eye, expecting your response to be followed by some cruel remark or something. He was used to that from other people, after all. Instead, all he saw was you looking up at him with a gentle, albeit surprised, smile. He should have known. The anxiety that had permeated the air around him began to fade away.

"What kind of cookies do you want to learn to make?"

Bucky tilted his head a little, trying to think quickly. 

"The ones with bits of chocolate in them."

"Chocolate chip?"

"Yeah, those. Is that okay?"

"Sure is, Buckaroo!"

He grinned at the nickname and nodded. Well, it wasn't what he had intended at first, but maybe it wouldn't turn out to be a complete disaster. It wasn't dinner and dancing like he had seen in so many movies but he would still be able to spend time with you and that's all he really wanted in the first place.

You walked to the pantry and began pulling ingredients like flour and sugar out of it. He hopped off of the stool he had been sitting on and came to stand just behind you, observing your every move.

"Would you be able to grab the eggs and butter out of the fridge for me?" You asked.

Bucky nodded and rushed to complete his task. He set the things you had asked for on the counter and turned to you. You were standing on your tip-toes to try and reach the baking soda on the top shelf of the pantry. He reached up and easily plucked the container off of the shelf, handing it to you. 

"Oh, thank you!" You grinned. 

He smiled back, the corners of his eyes crinkling a little. When you had finally gathered up all of the ingredients, you got started. As you mixed and measured, you explained each step to Bucky and included him in the process as much as possible. When everything was finally mixed properly, you handed Bucky a fork and showed him how to gently mash down the balls of dough so that the fork tines made a criss-cross pattern on the top of each cookie. 

It took all of your willpower to resist pulling out your phone and taking a photo of the hilariously adorable scene before you. There he was, one of the deadliest assassins in history, carefully squishing down lumps of cookie dough. His tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth in determined concentration. You tried your best to choke back a giggle. The tips of his ears turned red at the sound, but his face remained impassive as he carried out his task as dutifully as any soldier would. When he was finished, he looked at you expectantly.

"Good job, Buck," you praised him, as you inspected his work, "They're perfect."

His face lit up with your approval and you couldn't help but blush. You grabbed the cookie sheet and turned around quickly, hoping he wouldn't notice. You opened the oven and carefully slid the sheet onto the middle rack. You shut the door, set the timer, and turned back to face him with your hands on your hips.

"And that, Bucky Barnes, is how you make cookies," you said proudly.

 

\-----

 

You and Bucky sat at the kitchen counter and talked while you waited for the timer to go off, signalling that the cookies were ready to be cooled and consumed with copious amounts of milk. Bucky told you that he had been offered milk once before by Alexander Pierce and admitted that he hadn't had any since because he was still wary of it. 

"I know it probably seems stupid but my mind connects it to sitting in Pierce's dark kitchen, awaiting orders," he shrugged, "I can't help feeling that it's something I should stay away from."

You put your hand gently on his left one and said, "Don't worry about it. You don't have to have any if you don't want to."

Bucky looked down at your hand and hesitantly stacked his warm right one on top. He suddenly had an urge to run his fingers along yours, to trace your knuckles with his fingertips, but held back for fear of you pulling your hand away. He didn't want to ruin this moment. Instead, he just looked you in the eye, deeply serious.

"No. I trust you. I want to try it."

You smiled brightly at him, "Well, good, because there is nothing in the world that is better than dunking a warm chocolate chip cookie into a cold glass of milk. You just wait and see, Bucky!"

He would try it because you seemed to like it so much. However, he doubted there was anything in this world that could rival the way it felt when you smiled at him like that. His stomach tingled and his whole body felt warm from it. He wondered, for a moment, what it would feel like to wake up to that smile every morning. 

The timer went off, startling him out of his reverie. He quickly dismissed the thoughts from his head. They were getting too out of hand anyway. You jumped up from your seat and scurried to open the oven. You pulled on the pair of red oven mitts that hung on a hook by the stove and carefully took the baking sheet of cookies out of the oven. You set it on the stovetop and checked them over to make sure they were fully cooked.

Bucky sat quietly at the counter, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. The aroma of the warm chocolate chip cookies mixed with the faint vanilla scent that was wafting off of your body was heavenly. He searched through his olfactic memories but was met with only scents of electricity and gunpowder and blood. He couldn't remember the last time he had smelled something this good.

You scooped the cookies onto a plate with a spatula. You let them cool for a few minutes while you gathered two glasses from the cupboard and the jug of milk from the refrigerator. You placed the glasses in front of Bucky at the counter and poured a small gulp for Bucky and a tall glass for yourself.

"Here, try a little bit first," you said, handing over the glass.

He took it cautiously and sniffed at it. The milk smelled earthy and a little sweet. Fairly harmless. He dipped the tip of his tongue into it, like a kitten. The cold, creaminess beckoned him and he took a tiny sip of it. There was something nostalgic about the taste as if he had drunk it before in another lifetime, before HYDRA, before Alexander Pierce, before the metal arm and the pain. He remembered sitting at a wooden table in a bright kitchen with Steve, though a much smaller, skinnier version of him compared to now. The zesty scent of lemon cleaner filled his nose and...

"Bucky?"

He was called back to the present by your voice and the memories dissipated like smoke in the air. His eyes quickly focused on you. You had a smile on your face but concern briefly flickered in your eyes.

"Bucky?" You asked again, "Are you okay?"

He'd had a far-away look in his eye, but seemed to be back now. He nodded and timidly held out his glass.

"Can I have more, please?"

You grinned and filled it up.

"See, what did I tell you? Now, let me get the cookies and the real magic will happen," you said, wiggling your fingers mysteriously.

You brought the plate of cookies over and nudged it close to Bucky. He chose a cookie and following your example, dunked it into the milk for a moment. When he pulled it out, it just looked like a soggy cookie. What was so special about this? He bit into the milk-infused section and his eyes widened. The warm chocolate mixed with the cool milk and all but sent shivers down his spine.

You smirked at his expression, biting into your own cookie.

"See?" You squeaked excitedly, "It's so good, right?"

"So good," he repeated, licking the milk that dripped from his lips.

You and Bucky quickly polished off a few more before deciding that you should probably save some for Steve, Nat, and the rest of the group. You knew how much Nat loved your cookies and she would probably kill you if you ate them all. Or make you train more, and you didn't know which would be worse. You ripped off a sheet of tin foil and covered the plate of cookies with it while Bucky finished off his milk at the counter behind you.

You looked at the rest of the kitchen, which was still covered in flour and baking ingredients. The worst part about baking was definitely cleaning up afterwards. With Bucky's help, though, it only took you a few minutes. When everything was wiped up and put away, you stood with your hands on your hips once again, surveying your work.

"Well, Buck, it looks like our job here is done," you said triumphantly.

He looked around and nodded. He wanted to smile but, to be honest, he was a little disappointed that his time with you had finally come to an end. He wanted to reach out and take your hand so you couldn't leave. But instead, he just shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. 

You touched his arm lightly.

"Bucky?" you asked.

He turned his gaze to you and you suddenly felt nervous.

"If you don't have anything to do now, can I show you something?"

He nodded curiously. You took him by the hand and led him to the elevator. You told JARVIS which floor you wanted and the doors closed behind you. You both stood in silence while the elevator ascended but it wasn't uncomfortable. That was one of the things you liked most about spending time with Bucky. You didn't have to try to find things to fill the silence and it never felt forced or awkward.

When the elevator signalled your arrival, the doors opened and you led Bucky to a set of glass doors that opened onto a terrace balcony. On it, there were large, square planters filled with flowers and plants and a few patio tables and chairs. In the middle, a stone water fountain bubbled peacefully. 

This was one of your favourite places in the entire tower. It wasn't on any of the very top floors since those were reserved for Tony and Pepper, but it was open to the air and incredibly high up. Standing by the railing made you feel like you were on top of the world. It was your own patch of paradise, overlooking the concrete city below. You stepped out onto the terrace with Bucky following close behind you. You led him to a wooden bench beside one of the planters filled with flowers and sat down. You turned to him and observed as he stared around the new area in wonder.

"Do you like it?" you asked. 

He nodded, looking you in the eye, "It's beautiful."

"This is my favourite place in the whole tower," you explained, "I found it while exploring when I first arrived here. It wasn't anything special then but I asked Tony if I could put some flower pots out here and he went a step further by having all of this built."

You gestured around at everything.

"I used to have a tiny garden in the backyard of the house I lived in before I came here. I really missed it at first but now, I have this space and everything is good again," you said, smiling, "It's the perfect place to be when you want to sit in peace."

Bucky gazed at you. The afternoon sun shone around you, making you look like some kind of ethereal being. He had thought that you were beautiful before, but now, seeing you smile that gentle, caring smile that he loved so much among the flowers rendered him speechless. His heart ached in his chest. He wanted to wrap his arms around your waist and hold you close. He wanted to softly press his lips against yours and show you exactly how he felt about you. He couldn't take it anymore. He knew you might never be able to love a man as broken as him, but he'd be damned if he was going to let this moment slip through his fingers without at least trying. He mustered up as much courage as he could and reached over, carefully taking your hand in his. 

You swore that you felt a spark as Bucky's skin touched yours. Maybe it was real, maybe it was your imagination. Either way, when you looked up at him, your heart nearly stopped. His face was flushed and he had a hungry look in his eye. It wasn't dangerous as if he was becoming the Winter Soldier again; it was desperate. Like he was drowning and you were the oxygen he needed to survive. You leaned towards him, eyes locked on his, letting his gravity pull you in.

With that, he cradled your cheeks in his palms. Bucky paused and rested his nose against yours, his lips hovering alarmingly close. You could feel his hot breath on your mouth and you closed your eyes. 

In the next second, his lips touched yours with a kiss that was strong, but gentle at the same time. Waves of emotion broke over you and threatened to wash you away. You had never felt anything like this before.

His fingers traced your jawline. One hand was warm and soft while the other was metallic and cold. The contrast sent shivers rippling through your body. You wrapped your arms around his neck and let your fingers play in his long, dark hair, twisting this way and that, scrunching and tugging gently. He sighed softly against your mouth, revelling in the way you played with his hair. If he was able to, he would be purring right now. He pulled you impossibly close and his chest heaved against yours as if he was trying to breathe you in and keep you forever.

When you parted, you kept your eyes closed for a few moments, trying to archive every last sensation that you had felt. When you opened them again, you found Bucky staring at you with a slightly worried expression.

"Was... Was that okay?" he asked nervously.

You couldn't help but giggle as he fidgeted, awaiting your approval. 

"It was okay, Buck. It was more than okay."

A look of relief passed over his face and he smiled in that way that turned your knees to jelly.

"Oh good. I thought maybe I had crossed a line or something. But I'm allowed to want things now, right? And when you leaned forward, I just figured... you know..."

"Bucky," you interrupted him.

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

You captured his lips once more and simultaneously cut off his rambling and his uncertainty. Bucky smiled once more against your mouth, closed his eyes, and let his hands settle on your waist. For the first time in what seemed like forever, he felt completely happy and safe. He knew this was exactly where he was meant to be. In that moment, the world could come crashing down all around him and the only thing he would be aware of would be the feeling of your soft lips on his.

"I love you too," he murmured between kisses, "So much."

 

\-----

 

Natasha and Steve peeked through the glass doors to the terrace from where they were hidden around the corner.

"It's about damn time," Natasha said with a triumphant grin.

"Be quiet, Nat, they'll hear you," hissed Steve.

"Oh please," she scoffed, "I doubt they'd hear a nuclear blast right now."

Steve rolled his eyes, though he knew she was probably right. He turned back to the glass. He was glad that his friend had finally managed to make a move. He knew that Bucky had been sweet on you for a while now. Most of their conversations over the last weeks had involved you somehow. He was sure that Bucky could talk about you for hours and never get bored. Steve didn't mind, though; he was just happy to see his best friend's eyes light up like they used to.

You loved Bucky, too, he was sure of that. You weren't like the girls that Bucky used to go steady with in the 40s, all kittenish and coy until someone better came along. He could see that you genuinely cared for him, even after what Bucky had done to you during his last incident. You saw all of his flaws and had experienced firsthand what his broken mind was capable of but instead of avoiding him because of what he used to be, you accepted him for who he was trying to be now. He knew that it wouldn't be easy as Bucky struggled to recover, but if there was ever anyone Steve could trust to look after his best friend, it was you.

A pat on his shoulder jarred him from his musing.

"You gonna spend all day here, gawking at the lovebirds? I never took you for a voyeuristic old man, Steve" Natasha quipped, smirking at him.

She started on her way down the hall, walking a little farther ahead of him. Suddenly, she stopped and turned around with a mischievous grin on her face.

"What?" Steve asked warily.

"Oh, nothing really. I was just thinking of my next mission."

"What mission?" He hadn't been informed of any new missions from Fury recently.

"Well, now that Bucky's got a date," she said, "We've got to find you one, Steve."

Steve just shook his head and sighed. There was no use arguing. He knew full well how intense Natasha could be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeep, this was the first ever full kiss scene I've ever written so I hope it's okay!   
> I was flailing so hard while writing it, pffft! xDD
> 
> Feedback is appreciated; let me know what you think! <3


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